


There's a TV, Joe!

by Ignisentis



Series: Beautiful, Quivering, Chivalrous Shambles [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: And then a little badass, And then trolls again, It IS a nice plane!, M/M, POV James Copley, Trolls will be trolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27361738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignisentis/pseuds/Ignisentis
Summary: Copley makes his way into the plane behind Keane, greeted by an incredibly sarcastic “ah, there he is! The man of the hour!” from Joe.“My heart,” Nicky says, pulling Joe’s attention back to him, “what do you want to watch? There are so many channels on this TV, I don’t know why anyone would need so many.” The man is frowning at the television like it’s also betrayed and captured him and is about to deliver him to scientific experimentation, and Copley finds himself mildly impressed by how nonchalant they’re acting about this whole thing.“Oh, is the football still on?” Joe asks. “It was early in the first half when we were so rudely interrupted, I think there should be some time left in the second half.”“Let me see,” Nicky responds, flipping rapidly through the stations.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Beautiful, Quivering, Chivalrous Shambles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991572
Comments: 70
Kudos: 489





	There's a TV, Joe!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/gifts).



> This is for my dearest [paperstorm](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com) on the occasion of her birthday. I know everything is...well, everything right now, but hopefully this brings a smile to your face.

“We are usually a better judge of character,” Nicky says, and Copley puts on his best blank face. He has a job to do, and he’s not going to let Nicky get under his skin. 

“I suppose you are taking us to the person who paid for your betrayal,” Nicky continues, and okay. Copley will give him that one. 

“This’s a nice plane,” Joe says as he’s pushed up the stairs. He sounds surprised and almost...excited? That can’t be right. Copley feels his lips start to turn downward, and right then Nicky calls out from inside the plane, “there’s a TV, Joe!”

“Champagne?” Joe responds, like he isn’t in leg chains and flex cuffs and doesn’t have armed guards ready to shoot him in the face. Though, Copley muses, that last part really wouldn’t bother him all that much. 

Keane turns towards him with the same look of “who the fuck  _ are  _ these guys?” Copley’s sure is mirrored on his own face. 

Copley makes his way into the plane behind Keane, greeted by an incredibly sarcastic “ah, there he is! The man of the hour!” from Joe. 

“My heart,” Nicky says, pulling Joe’s attention back to him, “what do you want to watch? There are so many channels on this TV, I don’t know why anyone would need so many.” The man is frowning at the television like it’s also betrayed and captured him and is about to deliver him to scientific experimentation, and Copley finds himself mildly impressed by how nonchalant they’re acting about this whole thing. 

“Oh, is the football still on?” Joe asks. “It was early in the first half when we were so rudely interrupted, I think there should be some time left in the second half.”

“Let me see,” Nicky responds, flipping rapidly through the stations. 

“There!” Joe calls out, but Nicky doesn’t stop in time and there’s some baking show playing instead. 

“Oh, look, the chef is making a lovely fruit tart. Let’s watch this instead.”

“Nickyyyyy,” Joe whines, honest to god  _ whines.  _ “The football!”

“Ach,” Nicky scoffs, flapping his cuffed hands in Joe’s direction. “You watch so many games, and there will always be another one.”

“Your fruit tarts are already better than anything this chef could make! You don’t need to watch this!”

“Of course I do! Perhaps there’s a new tip I could pick up.”

“Fruit tarts have been fruit tarts for centuries, they aren’t going to change that much in half an hour on a baking show!”

“One never knows unless one watches,” Nicky says imperiously, and Copley has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the groan Joe gives in response, clearly knowing he’s lost this well-worn argument yet again. It makes Copley think of his wife and how effectively she could finish all their fights, too. 

“What if I sat with you? Would that make it better?” Nicky coos, making his way to the couch where Joe’s sitting across from the TV, and sits down on Joe’s lap, his back to Joe’s chest.

Joe grunts and lifts his arms up and over Nicky’s head, settling them around Nicky’s waist. Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s neck with a grumbled “I suppose.” 

Nicky snorts at him and twists around so he can kiss Joe on the mouth softly, once and then twice when Joe chases his lips. Copley looks over at Keane and the other guards, who look like they’ve been sucking on lemons, and yeah, it’s official. He’s starting to like these guys. 

“Knock it off,” Keane growls at them, and Joe looks up like he’d forgotten the man was even there. Which...is entirely possible. 

“Or what?” Joe goads. “You’ll kill us?”

Nicky gasps and puts his hands over his mouth in the most incredibly exaggerated manner Copley has ever seen. It draws a laugh out of him that he can’t quite cover with a cough. Keane glares at him before turning back to Joe and Nicky to glare at them instead. Joe laughs in response and presses a kiss to the side of Nicky’s neck. 

“My love,” he says. 

“Yes, my heart?” Nicky replies. 

Copley looks over at Keane, who’s about five seconds from blowing a gasket, and wishes he had some popcorn. He should probably step in at some point, but he’s more curious to see what Joe and Nicky are going to do next. 

Besides, he definitely likes these guys. 

“Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?” Joe asks. 

“Mmm, no,” Nicky hums. “They haven’t.”

“Perhaps we should help them along, then. How many ways do you know to crash a plane?” Joe asks, and wow, okay, that is  _ so  _ not where Copley thought this was going. 

“Oh,  _ tesoro,  _ there are so many ways to crash a plane. It depends on how much time I have to plan and what materials I have to work with,” Nicky responds. 

“How many can you think of off the top of your head, right now, with the restrictions of leg chains, zip cuffs, no weapons, four armed guards, one ex-CIA agent who’s been a very naughty boy, and a pilot?”

“What are my assets?” 

“Only me,” Joe tells him, punctuating the information with another kiss. 

“Ah, that is more than enough and the only thing I ever need.” Nicky kisses him again before straightening up to look Keane in the eye. “Under those parameters, and without more time to plan, I can think of seven ways to crash this plane.”

“Did you factor in Bucharest, ‘33?”

“Ah, I did not. Thank you for the reminder. Make that eight.”

Copley feels his heart start racing, he can hear his blood pulsing in his ears. He flicks his eyes to Keane, and the man has gone absolutely still. His face is whiter than Copley has ever seen it. 

“And who, my dearest love, out of the passengers of this plane, would survive if we decided to rip it from the sky?” Joe asks, his voice dripping with fake concern. 

“You and I are the only two who would walk away from such a tragedy, my heart.”

“That’s right!” Joe grins. “We are!”

Copley feels his stomach twist around itself as he holds his breath, waiting to see if they’ll actually do it. 

“Of course, that  _ would  _ be a waste of a perfectly good plane,” Nicky continues after an entirely too long pause, and Copley exhales sharply, suddenly understanding the message they’re trying to send. 

“These seats are so comfortable!” Joe agrees. 

“And the wood trim is so finely worked. I would hate to see such craftsmanship go to waste,” Nicky adds. 

“Think they’ve figured it out yet, Nicky?”

“Hmm,” Nicky hums back, looking around the fuselage before making eye contact with Copley. “He has.” Joe looks up expectantly, a twinkle in his dark eyes. 

“You aren’t trapped in here with us,” Copley answers them. “We are trapped in here with you.”

“That’s right!” Joe beams at him as Nicky claps his hands to his chest like a proud father. Joe winks at him before pressing another kiss to Nicky’s neck. Nicky sighs happily and turns back toward the TV. 

“Oh, Joe, look how thickly she sliced those pears!” He exclaims, scandalized. “They’ll never finish cooking before the crust starts to catch!”

“And why didn’t she use apricot jam as a glaze? Her tart is going to be so lifeless and dull!”

“Oh, no, this is going to be a disaster,” Nicky giggles, actually  _ giggles, _ as he wiggles on Joe’s lap. Joe shifts his legs around and pulls Nicky in closer, gleefully awaiting the reveal of the disaster tart. 

Copley chances a glance at Keane, whose face is all red and twisted up in anger. Joe and Nicky are probably going to pay for this later, but now? Right now?

There’s absolutely no doubt about it: Copley  _ loves  _ these guys. 


End file.
